


There Must Be An Angel With A Smile On Her Face

by araliya



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araliya/pseuds/araliya
Summary: Chris (tries to) paint Darren's nails.





	There Must Be An Angel With A Smile On Her Face

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: Cc promt please: Ur last reblog got me thinking, Maybe a sweet little fic of C painting D’s nails. And D just looking at him all lovingly and C just talking about something while painting them and then D interrupts to kiss him or something and C fakes annoyance “ur gonna ruin ur nails” or something like that im sure ur take will be amazing!
> 
> *Title from You're Beautiful by James Blunt also featuring lyrics from Bonfire Heart

The reblog in question is this one: [ x ](http://gillian-anderson.tumblr.com/post/19708094171) and is it not the best thing you have ever seen.  


 

“Oh my god, Darren, sit _still_.”

  
  
Darren squirms in his grasp (on purpose, _fine,_ but Chris is cute when he’s annoyed), and Chris huffs, brandishing the nail polish wand threateningly.

 

“I will smear this _all over_ your hair, D, and it’ll be like the Blaine helmet, but _permanent_.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare, you love my curls more than I do.”

 

Chris narrows his eyes and he holds the wand out over Darren’s head. A glob of the baby blue polish dangles precariously. “Don’t test me.”

 

Darren reluctantly surrenders. “Okay, okay, no more Scary Chris please.”

 

Chris takes a hold of his hand again, painting an even stripe down the nail. “There won’t be if you actually cooperate.”

 

“I’m cooperating!”

 

“Then _sit still_.”

 

Darren freezes, back ramrod straight and arm held out like a statue. Chris rolls his eyes but continues to paint, dipping the wand back into the pot every so often. “You’re impossible.”

 

“You love me.”

 

Darren considers it a victory when Chris can’t stop a small smile from escaping.

 

“Other hand,” he orders, ignoring Darren’s ploy for a kiss. Darren goes for one anyway, laughing silently when Chris tries to protest, before giving up and melting into the kiss. His lips are puffy and shining when they pull apart, and it thrills Darren to know that _he did that_.

 

Chris continues the task far more tenderly when he picks up Darren’s hand again, wordlessly wiping away a smudge of polish that’s run onto Darren’s fingers. His lashes fan out over his cheeks when he blinks, and Darren’s throat runs dry like it usually does when he stares at Chris for too long.

 

“ _You’re beautiful_ ,” he sings, totally and unapologetically aware that he’s being cheesy enough to hospitalize a lactose intolerant person. _What_ ? Chris deserves _all_ the serenading.

 

“ _You’re beautiful, it’s true._ ”

 

Chris looks up at him from where he’s been painting Darren’s pinky, and quirks an eyebrow. “James Blunt? Really, Dare?”

 

Darren shrugs. “It seemed appropriate.”

 

Turning back his attention to Darren’s finished nails, Chris laughs. “So you’re a creepy stalker who thinks he’s in love with someone he just saw?”

 

“Hey!” Darren admonishes, shivering involuntarily when Chris starts to blow on his fingers to dry them off. “It’s romantic!”

 

“It’s creepy,” Chris insists. He tilts his head to view his handiwork. “Not bad, but the lines would be straighter if it weren’t for _someone_.” 

 

“Have you done this before?”

 

“I used to paint Hannah’s, sometimes.”

 

Chris brings Darren’s drying hands to rest on his knees, and starts to screw shut the bottles.

 

“Can I do yours?”

 

Chris’ looks so horrified at the prospect that Darren can’t help but laugh.

 

“Oh no, there is _no way_ I’m letting you anywhere near me with anything _remotely_ semi-permanent.”

 

When Darren tries pouting, Chris covers his eyes with his hands. “The puppy eyes won’t get you anywhere!”

 

“Can I at least do your toes? No one will even see them!”

 

Chris uncovers his eyes only to roll them at Darren. “You’re like a little girl, D.”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

Darren whoops happily when Chris throws his hands up in exasperation, passes him a pastel pink shade, and reluctantly manoeuvres himself so that his feet are in Darren’s lap.

 

“No tickling, and no phallically shaped nail-art.”

 

“Am I allowed to keep singing?”

 

Chris snuggles deeper into the couch, curling his toes helpfully so that Darren’s at a better angle to paint them. “Is it going to be more cheesy James Blunt?”

 

“You know it, baby.”

 

Chris groans exaggeratedly, and Darren begins to belt out _Bonfire Heart_ to the rhythm of his painting strokes.

 

“ _Days like these lead to_  
_Nights like this leads to_ _  
_ Love like ours…”

 

***

 

Chris wears flip-flops the next day, and they share a secret smile when someone compliments Darren’s manicure.

 


End file.
